


A Taste of Sectumsempra

by Twelvefootmountaintroll



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, PWP, S&M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-16
Updated: 2012-08-16
Packaged: 2017-11-12 06:38:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/487833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twelvefootmountaintroll/pseuds/Twelvefootmountaintroll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry tries to curse Malfoy; instead, he gets a taste of his own magic. A re-imagining of the bathroom duel in HBP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Taste of Sectumsempra

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on fanfiction.net as joemoe93.

Harry slipped on the wet tile, Myrtle’s shrieking voice ringing in his ears. Unbidden, the incantation for a spell he had never used sprang into his mind, and unhesitating, he used it.

 

“Sectumsempra!” he yelled desperately, waving his wand at Malfoy.

 

Malfoy deflected the curse; it narrowly missed Harry lying on the floor, splintering the tile near his head and distracting him momentarily. Malfoy shouted a hex and Harry felt ropes wind themselves around his wrists and ankles, immobilizing him; another encircled his head and forced itself between his clenched teeth. Slowly, they stretched out to knot themselves on the bathroom stalls and secure Harry spread-eagle.

 

“Expelliarmus,” Malfoy said as he strode over, sending Harry’s wand clattering away.

 

“Sectumsempra, Potter? I wouldn’t have thought you had it in you,” he said. “Oh, but you don’t know what it does, do you? And what an...interesting situation we find ourselves in now.”

 

Harry glared at the sneering boy standing over him and pulled at the ropes, but they were bound too tight. Mentally, he tried summoning his wand; nothing happened.

 

Malfoy turned to the stall Myrtle had disappeared into. “Myrtle, get out.”

 

The ghost appeared through the stall door. “What are you going to do to him, Draco? Don’t hurt Harry. He’s nice.”

 

“I said get out!” Malfoy growled, pointing his wand at the translucent girl. With a squeak, she plunged through the floor.

 

“Now, Harry, I can be very reasonable when I want to be,” Malfoy said, every word dripping with malice and derision. “I’ll give you one chance to beg me to let you go or I may have to break Myrtle’s trust.”

 

Harry felt the rope in his mouth vanish. “Fuck off, Malfoy, and let me go.”

 

“Such manners!” Draco exclaimed, feigning shock.

 

With a flick of his wand, Harry’s robes vanished.

 

“What are you doing?” Harry demanded.

 

Malfoy ignored this, tracing his wand in a path down Harry’s chest. The buttons from Harry’s shirt popped off as the wand passed over them. This must simply have been for dramatic effect, however, as the shirt vanished as well once all the buttons were gone.

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to beg?” Malfoy asked, dropping to his knees and straddling Harry’s waist.

 

“Get off me, you fucking pervert!”

 

Malfoy tutted. “Very well.”

 

Clutching his wand like a dagger, he pressed the end into Harry’s chest near his right shoulder. Slowly, deliberately, he began to draw in down. 

 

Harry gasped. Where the wand tip pressed a line of burning pain opened in Harry’s skin; though not deep—the blood barely oozed, as in a cat scratch—the cut was agonizing.

 

“Stop, Malfoy, stop! Please,” Harry hissed.

 

“I can’t do that now, Potter. I always finish what I start, and besides, you need a taste of sectumsempra.”

 

As the gash passed through his nipple, the pain increased, but another element appeared. Harry could still appreciate the burn of the cut, but the fire had sparked a smolder in his groin and a reciprocal swelling in his trousers.

 

Malfoy’s eyes widened. “Potter, you are sicker than I imagined. This is actually turning you on?”

 

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. _This is not happening._

 

Malfoy lifted his wand, ending the line near the bottom of Harry’s ribcage. He moved it back to the top of the line, this time starting an arc out toward Harry’s sternum. With each centimeter, Harry grew harder, until his cock was throbbing against the constraining cloth and Malfoy’s restrictive weight. Harry’s face burned with shame and anger.

 

“Malfoy, please,” he whispered.

 

Malfoy casually tweaked Harry’s near-bisected nipple, sending a wave of pain and arousal through Harry’s body. “It’s almost halfway done. But do feel free to beg anyway.”

 

“I hate you,” Harry said, keeping his eyes closed. Less engaged was better.

 

“Mm,” Malfoy agreed, rocking back and forth against Harry’s erection. The second line on Harry’s chest curved back toward the first, meeting at the bottom. He blew on the red cuts, smirking at Harry’s repressed moan.

 

“Are you done now?” Harry asked.

 

“Not quite,” Malfoy said, placing his wand back on Harry’s chest. He began to trace another vertical line.

 

Harry clenched his teeth against the pain and the sensation that his cock was trying to rip through his trousers. As Malfoy started a fourth line, this one short and diagonal, starting where the previous one had, he felt a warm stream of blood begin to trickle down his side.

 

Malfoy finished a fifth line—another short, diagonal one—and paused. “One more.”

 

“Get off. Please,” Harry said. “You’re going to break my dick!”

 

“You need an appointment for that,” Malfoy mocked. He started the last line. This one passed vertically through Harry’s left nipple.

 

“Merlin,” Harry moaned. His chest was a stinging, fiery mess, every heartbeat sending a pulse of pleasure into his groin. 

 

Malfoy finished the last cut and sat back to survey his work. Then he leaned forward and blew harshly on the fresh wounds.

 

Harry bucked his hips. “Get off me, you arsehole!”

 

Malfoy’s hand found the bulge in Harry’s trousers. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay a little longer?”

 

“Untie me or stop being a fucking tease,” Harry said.

 

Malfoy slipped off to Harry’s side, undoing Harry’s buttons. With one hand he found Harry’s hard-on while the other traced the line through his nipple.

 

It only took a few strokes. Harry arched his back, thrusting into Malfoy’s hand and coming into his trousers. Malfoy roughly pinched Harry’s nipple; Harry saw stars, moaning into the lip he was biting.

 

After a few moments, Harry collapsed with a gasp. Malfoy pulled out his hand, wiping it off on Harry’s stomach. He grabbed his wand and stood up.

 

“Hey, wait, Malfoy. Untie me,” Harry said.

 

“The ropes will wear off in an hour or two,” Malfoy said with a smirk. “With luck, before Myrtle comes back.”

 

With that, Harry a sticky, bleeding mess on the floor, Malfoy walked out.

 

Harry stared after him. He could already hear Myrtle’s abrasive voice interrogating him as he lay helpless on the floor; he struggled against the ropes again, to no avail. His cuts had stopped bleeding but were still aching dully. Harry looked down at them, realizing what they were.

 

_DM._

__

“Malfoy, please!” he shouted. “I’m ready to beg, just untie me!”


End file.
